


Thunderstorms

by kosmeja



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/F, Incest, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:06:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7505911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kosmeja/pseuds/kosmeja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small, interconnected one-shots about a different kind of love</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opening

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is... a weird sort of idea of mine that has spiraled out of control. I hope you can enjoy it as much as I have!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an introduction, and then a primer on daily routines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're just finding this fic, hi! Bear with me as I'm currently working on revising/editing this mess into something beautiful

## 1

Serah's lips were warm. Claire knew that, and she was fully aware that such a detail isn't something that she _should_ know about her twin. The tidbit was a misshapen puzzle piece that somehow belonged in the picture, a mistake in a mural. Because the detail was... _wrong_. Morally, it was reprehensible to know such a private thing. And yet it just felt right anyways, a secret shared between them that no one else would ever be privy to. 

Eclaire "Lightning" Farron had always been a girl of intuition. A woman lead by feeling and invisible beliefs, time after time. No one had _realized_ it because she hid her superstitions behind brute force and cold eyes, but even the pink haired menace was wary of ill omens. Some would say that such caution was even fitting for a yakuza. If you believed that karma was circular, that the good you did onto the world would be dealt back to you threefold, then it only made sense that if you were _bad_ , bad things would happen. The woman wasn't burly like those who worked for her, a slender figure compact with hard-worked muscles, a sleeveless white chiffon shirt, unbuttoned just a bit to show her assets, and crowbar on her back for the poor sucker who decided to look. Still, she was an animal among the beasts of Shinjuku, Tokyo. A name spoken in households as myth, the Pink Haired Demon, because the one thing all of her living associates could remember was a flash of pink, before they were riddled with agony. Her face was cold (but Serah saw it as _gentle _) and eyes a striking blue-green that paralyzed her tenants with fear daily.__

____

But Serah kissed each eyelid before they went to bed, anyways. Claire was a slave to her feelings, and the love her sister admonished her with was always just too _good_ for things to remain civil for their entire lives.

__

The younger Farron (by three _fucking minutes_ )wasn't the exact opposite of her lover. She shared the same pinkish hair, constantly in a traditional bun as opposed to her sisters messy neck-length cut. And no, she wasn't as overly frightening as her sister was either. Serah's face was soft, full of expression but very composed all the same. With long lashes and lips that, Claire really could never resist, always giving into whatever she had wanted. Behind slender fingers, made to play piano, eyes of jade and lavender scented perfume, laid a monster of itself. Not many would ever be able to tell who the more dangerous sister was, because Serah had only shown her skill with knives on one special occasion, when she and Light were still teens, and the elder twin came home with bruises that she didn't talk about. A 'Yakuza rite of passage', or something. That had been her first meeting with Claire's 'friends' and since then, no one dared to flirt with the older Farron or even speak ill of her family. With Serah's introduction, an impression had been left for good.

__

The younger sibling was never one for pleasantries, anyways.

__

Maybe _that's_ how their insidious game started. Lightning only did what felt right, and Serah wanted something that she couldn't have. She wanted a taste of a fruit forbidden, even if her soul was destined to be damned as a result. Lightning didn't question _why_ the rosette crawled into her bed, cheeks wet with false tears on that night, because with a face like that, how could she resist? How could she turn the girl away, when she was begging to be comforted? 

__

"Nightmare." The younger sibling whispered, before wrapping her arms around the taller woman. These visits became more frequent, but sparse enough that Light didn't take issue with it. She was a loving sister in secret. Not overly affectionate like Serah, but not opposed to it either. Their parents had died so long ago, the nightmares that accompanied the accident almost felt natural at this point. Where Claire could keep a facade of strength in public, these fragile moments with Serah did much to keep her together. Tragedy seemed to follow the sisters like a lover scorned and when the smaller woman quivers in her arms, Claire does not hesitate to press her lips against the girl's head, squeezing her close.

__

"You can stay here. Just for tonight." It was always like that. Just for tonight, just until her boyfriend drove here in the morning to pick her up. They were a couple born and bred in darkness, and she wouldn't have it any other way. Claire bends to kiss the girl's head again and the twin sister tilts her head at just the perfect angle, whining as she caught the yakuza's lips swiftly. She's not kissing for a physical hunger, but rather... to distract herself. To voice her gratefulness without words. It was always like this, ever since _he_ had came into their lives. 

__

Snow was the reason for their first kiss and for everything Lighting loathed the man for, she couldn't spit on him for giving her that moment. The bruises that the eldest twin often came home with were from Serah's boyfriend. They were both yakuza legends in their own right and both craved an affection that no one else could offer. She wanted a sister, and the giant behemonth just wanted the thrill of battle, even though he was heralded as a gentle giant. Serah would swear up and down that her boo didn't have a mean bone in his body, that she would never hurt him as long as they lived. But when she saw those bruises on Lightning's fair skin, things got ugly. Let’s just say, the white haired Boar had to take some time off. No one was arrested, despite the obvious stab wounds he harbored. He wouldn't even give a name. Because no one could know that he'd been bested by a teenage psychopath who worked part time in a maid cafe. 

__

Serah had simmered down following the squabble, and she didn't shy away from Lightning's kisses after that. She would never hide her feelings, after her sister had faced such violence because of her own naieveity. The pink haired demon had a keeper, and she wouldn't have it any other way. 

__

* * *

## 2

There's some kind of routine to a certain gangster's daily life. Wake up before the sun fully rises, jog and shower before Serah could rise. Go back downstairs to a well-made breakfast and polite and benign conversation before she went off to work, roughly an hour of pleasant memories before they parted for that day. Claire's morning routine was cherished and not even the sordid nights they shared would change that. Ever since the elder Farron's had died, the twins looked after each other. Claire worked odd jobs, kept the lights on and scared the landlord whenever he'd pressure them to pay earlier. And in return, Serah made Claire smile. She retained her purity, the light that drew her in every night and woke her up every morning. They're at peace with this balance in duties.

__

There's a routine to the sex that's quiet and just wrong but they do it anyways. It was always an innocent question, or benign smile that fanned the flames and it's almost _always_ Serah. She's much better at playing coy, seductive. She cleans in her underwear just to tease Claire sometimes, bites her lower lip and pouts in a way that makes the woman's heart curl, just to get a rouse out of the otherwise stoic queen. And this continues throughout the day, until they turn in for the night. 

__

She would always remind Serah how much she 'loves' her with the bruises, the manicured nails at her throat and the excited tongue probing her navel and against her thighs, tasting, hungering for more. That's the routine for them. Serah starts a fire every morning, and Claire just doesn't stop. Not when her legs are shut tight and her moans are weak and raspy, begging for more. There's no little "I love yous" in those kisses, because she wants to set her sister ablaze.

__


	2. Wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anger is a natural emotion, a response to violence or a discomforted state. The responses for this emotion are varied. One can either swallow it, allow the toxin to consume them, make them spiteful and bitter, or it can be explosive, violent and self-destructive in a more literal sense.
> 
> Here's an example of both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised anyone even read this, honestly! It's more of a self-indulgent fic as of now so I can practice writing in general, but if there's a demand, I'll likely continue to update this in the future. Enjoy!

## 3

 

Sometimes, Claire's anger came through the door with her. The elder sister was a stoic woman, but she could wear masks well. The face and patient smile of a waitress, tired and annoyed by the patrons of the day but hiding it behind a cool greeting and soothing voice. She never talked about it, but her 'service voice' still stuck with her on bad days, on days where clients would flip her skirt and hoot and holler for kisses. She wouldn't talk about it, just stomp to her room and sleep off her anguish, alone. Serah would just do what she did best, make dinner and leave a warm plate on the stove for her sister to eat after her morning workout, before camping outside of the girls room, falling asleep against her door with a blanket as her only source of protection.

 

On those nights, Light would wake up just to carry the girl to her own bed, so that they both may rest peacefully.

 

Part time shifts at the maid cafe weren't the only thing that upset Claire. The woman was easily agitated, even if she kept a cool and composed facade in public. Being shoved and jostled on the bullet train to the job center twice a week, being stared at like she was some sea urchin, having to deal with gangsters who didn't know her legacy, such _small things_ in the grand scheme of it all. She genuinely loathed many aspects of her daily life and did so without shame. Those in her inner circle knew of this, and they all tried their best to stay quiet, walked on eggshells around the violate pinkette just in case today was a bad day (they were all bad days, when she was separated from her lover.) 

And while Claire found it all frustrating, she never cracked, not even for a minute. Not when their landlord insisted that they were late on another rent payment and swore that he would report them to the cops if Light didn't sleep with him, not when she visited their parents graves just to see that not even the dead were left sacred in Shinjuku, and their resting place was desecrated by looters looking for anything of value. Those were _hard_ times, surely, but Light kept her head low, kept her weapons close, and cried in the privacy of the rising sun, muffling sobs with her daily exercise and moving on as best she could.

* * *

While her older sister worked and cracked skulls in dark alleyways, Serah took classes at the local college. While not the _best_ outlet for anger, the mild mannered girl found solace in people-watching. She would pass her weekdays in a similar fashion, popping bubblegum as she watched her friends regale each other with stories of their latest ventures on social media and various romantic flings and drama. Occasionally, she might listen to the professor with half an ear, but it was fairly rare since most of her classes tended to drone on. It wasn't... really frustrating, that she had to sit in remedial classes for college when she was already leagues ahead of the other students, no. It didn't make her upset, watching as people fell into their own cliques throughout the school year and began to avoid her like the plague solely because of her 'connections'. She knew what the stakes were, when she decided not to dye her hair or even attempt to hide the fact that she was related to a monster, so she couldn't be too upset when she'd hear people whispering about her behind her back. It's a little startling how quickly she could get used to living in passive aggressive annoyance. No one harassed her openly and school was only a third of her day, so it wasn't really _torture_. But... today was just a little different. She was in some Japanese Literature class when she overheard something rather... upsetting. Two students whos names she couldn't even remember at this point, seemed to have the latest scoop on Yakuza activity in the city and it was juicy!

 

"Did you hear?" An auburn haired girl in a obnoxiously yellow sundress stage-whispered to her partner, leaning across the desks to get his attention. With an aghast expression, she continued. "The pink haired beast took down _all_ of Sazh's gang last night, by herself."

 

"Even the _kids?_ " a horrid look from her partner in crime, a boy with sun kissed skin and dirty blonde hair that stuck up at wild angles. Such news was unfathomable, as Sazh's envoy were practically as old as time at this point. The man in question was a notorious kingpin, known for smuggling children and using them for all sorts of schemes, from drug runs to trafficking and executions. When your culprit was a nameless, faceless, ward of the state, it was rather hard to track them down, so for years he had gotten by unscathed, thriving in the shadows as a real life ghost story. But... if this was true, it would mean that Lightning was far more dangerous than anyone had known.

 

"Yes, _even_ them. My dad's a detective, and he was even telling me, the warehouse where they found the bodies was burnt to the ground when they got there, all the corpses were riddled with bullets and stab wounds..."

 

Serah slammed her ethics textbook shut and her own annoyance grew as the gossip played on repeat in her head now. One of many downsides to having a sister in the yakuza was this, the rumors spread and slander that she had always ignored. It was rare and very very much not a big deal, but... she didn't need to be here, right? The class was just doing review for upcoming midterms and she didn't feel too hot. So rather than subject herself any further to the musings and whispers of people that loathed her, the younger Farron stomped home, paying no mind to the fair-weather friends and classmates that greeted her. To any that asked, she explained that she didn't feel well and left it at that, drudging off before they could annoy her further.  _'I'm fine. They were just talking. It's fine, I'm fine.'_ The words become a mantra as the campus halls blend into the outside world of downtown Shinjuku, and in her haste, she doesn't even realize that she's outside of her own home until her fingers are brushing against the cool steel of a doorknob, never locked. Anger might not have been exclusive to Claire, but the younger sister certainly handled her grievances differently. Instead of crying or exercising until her body was numb, she found comfort in the art cleaning. From the moment she returned to her home, the girl indulged herself with a feather duster and vacuum. The afternoon rush passed her by as she dusted every little particle to try and wipe away memory of Claire, rearranged the dishes and washed the knives twice. This was the remainder of her day. Cleaning, staring at her reflection in the dull sheen of hand-me-down utensils that her grandparents probably owned. Her parents had always joked that even though Light had a violent streak at school, it was always Serah with the real attitude problem. When she was actually upset with you, you'd never know. You'd just lose fingers the next day, or find your favorite stuffed animal cut to shreds. She daydreamed of these little memories. Embarassing in the moment, but now endearing with the state of things. She had felt _guilty_ as a kid for making her classmates hurt for teasing Claire. And her mother simply laughed, called her early signs of sociopathy a 'protective instinct', and taught her how to clean the dishes properly. She daydreamed of a time after their deaths, when school seemed like a pipe dream until a tall idiot she went to high school with gave her a hot tip about a 'connection' he had with the dean of Tokyo U, and how estactic she had been to get a scholarship to go there. The knives are hypnotic, her pink knuckles grip the handle tightly and the material reminds her of how gentle her former boyfriend’s hands had been before “Lightning” broke his fingers. It was over a stupid turf war, and as a result, he left her. Gripping the knife tighter, Serah glowered. The demon was ruthless and powerful and she would _fall_ before Serah’s own hands. A fury inside of her had gone unchecked for far too long and with just the gossip she heard today, it would boil over before anyone could stop her.

* * *

 

Dusk had arrived just before the elder sister did, and as Claire Farron ambled through the door and stripped herself of her boots, she felt a chill in the air. Something was wrong, the house was too… _quiet_ , devoid of the usual life and chatter that was present when Serah was around. Dinner hadn't been prepared and the television was off, so all she could hear was the sharp hiss of a running faucet in the kitchen.

 

“Serah?” Her instincts kicked in and her fingers tightened around the switchblade in her skirt, just in case they were facing a home invasion. While the risk had never really occured

 

“In the kitchen!” Her tone remained sedate, shutting the tap off. Her voice was devoid of any sort of joy, and when Claire walked into the kitchen, her greatest fears averted for now, she saw something noteworthy. Little cardboard and plastic containers on the table, even though Serah _loathed_ takeout. It's such a small thing, but Claire still couldn't get rid of the chill lingering against her spine. Why was

 

“You ordered food?”  She quirks an eyebrow and took a seat, trying her best to keep the confusion out of her tone. The entire time they spoke, Serah kept her back to her sister, as if not regarding her presence officially. She wiped at dishes idly as she replied, "Yeah. I had a really tiring day and didn't feel like cooking tonight. I hope that's okay with you." Always sweet, always concerned, Serah's kind words felt like poison on her lips. She wanted to scream and punch and stab until she got the answer she deserved. Lightning didn't deserve a younger sister as kind and understanding as she had been.

 

Somehow, Claire still heard the edge in Serah's tone and alarms went off in her head. She didn’t forget a birthday, or a piano recital, right? Serah didn’t want to do anything special today, or she didn’t mention it because she _always_ listened to the girl.

 

“And… what do you plan on eating then?” Yakuza were supposed to be fearless but she’s careful, _scared_ of something fragile. Her sister was her world, the stars themselves, and the idea that the girl was upset unsettled her. Little old Serah, who cried at the end of Disney movies and still collected stuffed animals, couldn’t possibly harbor an ounce of hate in her body. Especially not toward the one thing she had left in this world.

“I’m sure I’ll find something to snack on, Lightning.” That was the final alarm, the proverbial glass shattering between them. It was some kind of unspoken rule, that _no one_ called her Claire but her sister. The rest of the world and its inhabitants would know her as Lightning. And vice versa, Serah using that name meant that she was upset with her sister directly. Something was wrong between them and she had no clue as to _what_.

 

“S-serah, I’m sorry. I’m _sorry._ ” A simple name, and she was ready to prostrate herself in hopes of appeasing the girl. The proud woman was groveling, begging for forgiveness because seeing her sister look at her like _that_ , like she was just another boy, another stranger to keep at bay, was too much to bear. They only had _each other_ , so fights should have been few and in between. She could be strong anywhere else, in any other way, but if Serah were in question, Claire knew that she would sooner get on her knees and lick the dirt than purposefully upset the girl. She didn’t even know what they were fighting _for_ , so when she got up, her hand brushing against Serah’s creamy shoulders, exposed by the straps of her tank top, she wasn’t expecting what happened.

 

“Don’t _fucking_ touch me!” Serah never rose her voice and the sound of her shrill tone made Claire quake. The younger twin finally turned on her heel, crystalline eyes unnaturally fierce. “You _killed_ children? Is _that_ why you came home late last night, Lightning?” she really wanted to believe that the rumors aren’t true, but she doesn’t _know_ , and that’s what scared her above all else. The woman that was closest to her, was also a stranger. She knew that in order to survive, Claire would do anything in her power, but Serah could never fathom that this lifestyle would lead to something so gruesome.

 

There’s a clear distance between them now, and Claire tries her hardest not to pace, not to move in the slightest, lest she upset the beast before her. She had faced down drug dealers, murderers, and cops twice her age with nothing but a bat and her looks, without an ounce of fear. But here, seeing the malice in her sisters eyes, she was terrified. Frozen solid, even. Serah had grown out of this angry, rebellious phase long after their parents had died. She had lost the 'attitude' in favor of fighting the world with a kind and noble heart, and Lightning admired the younger sibling for it. So... why now? What could have happened, to make Serah so furious?

 

When Lightning doesn't reply to defend herself, Serah takes it as an admission of guilt, continuing the tirade. “What? Were you out all night because you were _fucking_ one of your Yakuza buddies? I know you act all high and mighty, but it’s all just an _act_ because deep down you’re just a pervert who likes to fuck her sister. Right? _Right?!”_ Her voice quakes with something Claire can’t identify, and she’s not sure when she became trapped between the wall of the kitchen and Serah, who’s two inches shorter but still manages to be opposing and threatening in her school uniform. Just... where was this coming from, exactly? Serah had known that she had never slept with another person, or even _looked_ at a man in that way before. Still, the words sting more than Lightning thought possible, like a wound re-opening. Even if she had a bad day, what gave Serah the right to speak in such a manner, lash out like this? The sort of behavior was reminiscent of their late mother and the fury she often brought home with her on a bad day. Sudden, strong like the moonlit tides and just as destructive.

 

The baby took a breath, chest heaving unsteadily as she composed herself. And when she looked to Claire again, the detached and emotionless expression was back in full effect. “You know, I don’t think I ever really loved you. Not the way you seemed to be obsessed with me, anyways. Always stalking me and my boyfriends and just _ruining_ things like you did with mom and dad. You know, maybe you should have burned in that fire with them. B-“

 

There’s a thunderous clap, as Claire smacks Serah’s cheek with a force that sends her reeling. They would _never_ hurt each other. The hands that held Serah’s tender body after their nightly trysts, the fingers that had been so gentle, were clenched in a fist, _ready_ to strike again if needed.

 

“Say it again.” Claire's voice was ice now that she knew what was wrong, and her shoulders taut. The woman is _mad_ and Serah gets to see it for the first time, the actual strength her sister kept secret, the bloodthirsty gaze that threatened dismemberment, The girl has to take a moment to regain her senses because her cheek is burning and her throat is hot, tight with anger and embarrassment.

 

“Say it _again_ Serah!” The younger Farron braced herself for another strike, but instead found herself being hoisted up, thrust roughly against the wall like a paper doll. Lightning’s grip on the fabric of her cardigan was tight and the two were eye to eye now, so Serah can clearly see the tears forming beneath her sisters beautiful eyes.

 

And just like that, the anger deflated. The weight of her words hit and disgusted her, and her body was no longer hot, agitated with unspoken fury. Her body slackened in Claire’s grip, and became heavier with sorrow. She said something… something _vile_ to the girl that she was supposed to love above all else?

 

“I’m so… sorry.” She whispered, mollified with her words, with the anger that was misdirected.

 

“That’s not… it’s not what you _said_.” Claire’s careful not to crush bone, but she’s still pinning the girl against the wall, her body tense and the tears flowing evenly. She didn’t shudder or quake when she sobbed. The words had stabbed her in a way that no knife ever could have.

 

Claire watched her sisters’ eyes closely for any more signs of aggression, before she continued. “I love you, you know. Everything I do, I’ve _done_ , was so that you don’t have to starve, so that we can _survive_ in this fucked up city without worrying about where our next meal is coming from, or if the lights will be on when you get home from school. I –“ the mask slips for just a second, but it’s long enough for Serah to see it. Light’s holding _back_ , she wanted to destroy the girl for what was said, but she doesn’t because she’s the older sister and she’s a glacier, patient and responsible even now. Things had shifted between them and once again, she would have to swallow her anger to preserve them both.

## 4

 

When Lightning spoke again, it was with a heavy heart because she really _did_ feel guilty about the way things went down that night. “I… didn’t kill the kids. Directly. There was an accident, miscommunication between some rival gangs I guess. They just opened fire on _everyone_ there. They were all just waiting for me to take out their boss, I guess.” Serah believed this because she believed in Claire, in _Lightning_ , to do the right thing. There were no masks when she’s around, and the yakuza who would take the world by storm was no stranger to her. They were twins, lovers.

 

Eying the girl, Light's grip slackens just a little as she voices her deepest fears. “You… really want me to be dead?” Light's voice wasn't nearly as strong as she repeated the curse thrown her way. There’s a pause, a glimmer of hope that she had heard wrong and maybe this was all in the moment, but the words had been spoken, and something in her had been mangled as a result. On late nights, when she was out roughing up anyone that dared to challenge her, Lightning fantasied a heroic death. She’s selfish in such a manner, daydreaming of a street brawl gone wrong, or a shooting. A brief lapse of judgement, long enough for someone to slit her throat and leave her corpse rotting in a ditch. Serah would be alone, and she would mourn, but the girl would be _safe_. Serah doesn't reply. She _couldn't_. Any denials are lost in her throat and the deviant sister is frightened of what she may have started.

 

Light just _laughed_. In the face of reality, the pugilist saw humor in this. “I really am rotten, aren't I?.” Something shifted, and Serah is afraid to speak as they begin to move. Claire hoists her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, carrying them to the bedroom in a hurry, not thinking to wait for a response, a resolution to this disgusting argument that Serah had started. Her body felt like concrete as she sunk into the plush mattress. They were in her own room, walls and desk decorated sparsely with the things they could afford. Tiny trinkets and clips from her favorite magazines and photos of her new life. The room felt warm, even if her body was stinging from the cold feeling in her rib cage.

 

“Light, w-what are you doing?” she feels the woman straddle her, and like a boa, is upon her neck, biting and pinching and groping Serah through her clothes. Her voice sounds agitated, gasps annoyed and impatient. What was... what was happening? Weren't they arguing? Why did Claire have to do this, now? What was with the sudden change of face?

 

Her answer is given once the demon has had her fill with Serah's neck, pulling away to glare at the girl resolutely. “I’m going to _remind_ you how much I love you.” The tone promises something that made Serah’s knees weak and her breath hitched in her chest as Claire chose that moment to hit a sweet spot at the crest of her collarbone, biting and sucking feverishly. Any protests are lost on her tongue when her sister’s hands preemptively snake up her shirt, squeezing at any skin she could grab. Lightning would take out her lingering rage on this, distract herself with sordid orgasms and the taste of Serah's flesh, and come morning, they would stay in. She’d cook them a proper breakfast and for the first time in recent memory, Claire would genuinely laugh. A sweet sound from tainted lips.

 

Almost as sweet as the moan Serah gave when the older sibling kissed the crest of her breasts. She wanted to make it last, but with each bite, each lick more impatient than the last, the younger sister can tell. Clare fully intended to make it _hurt_ , because her displeasure was fiery and all-consuming. The inferno gnawed at her very being, threatened to spill over into genuine sadism, if she didn't get her fill of carnal pleasure. Tilting her head back, Serah whispered the woman’s name urgently. "Please, Claire..." There was a heat building between her legs by this point. Anticipation is the precursor to foreplay and the demon assaulting her cleavage seemed to know just how to prick and prod to get her desired result. Lights fingers slipped beneath the fabric of the white cotton bra, and she found her purchase, deftly teasing the girl, biting and sucking on exposed skin until Serah’s legs were clamped tight and a wet spot was forming in her underwear from the excitement.

 

“Ha… A-ah…” heavy breaths against her ear, Claire doesn’t bother with teasing or exploring. She was already familiar with the curves of her sisters’ tits, the valleys of her thighs and the treasure she hid beneath a plaid skirt and cotton panties. She can feel Serah grinding back against her, her smaller arms secured tight around her waist, legs wrapped about the woman and trapping her close, so that Light could _feel_ the effect. The elder sister growls, licking her own lips excitedly before moving from Serah’s cleavage, focusing her attention more south.

It was... really this easy, with the siblings. With even the harshest of arguments, they could always resolve their differences in the bedroom. Light could bear any curse, any evil, if it meant she could come home to Serah and have this, every day.

The younger sibling realizes that the feeling is more than mutual, it's inevitable. She couldn't really be upset with Lightning, because even if the woman was a gangster, a _monster_ in sheeps clothing, Serah loved her anyways and that would never change. Their attraction was cataclysmic and if their relation to one another, the taboo of being siblings, couldn't stop them, how would any fight ever get between the girls? Claire is probing with the tip of her tongue, pressing against nipples the same color as her lips and bringing a bright blush to

 

“M-my nipples are really sensitive s-sis! C-can' you _stop_ licking them like that?” Serah’s voice was a squeak, embarrassed and so turned on that she doesn’t even care. She wants to beg forgiveness, for some kind of mercy because knowing Lightning, she really might fuck the poor girl until they’re both unable to stand.

 

Lightning didn't seem to hear the protest, or maybe she didn't care, because in a instant, her lips are upon a pink nipple, sucking and licking with all intent of hearing the girl scream. Her legs are wrapped around one of Serah’s now, and she’s moaning against the flesh as she rubs herself, the only thing separating their skin being a sheer layer of fabric. Serah’s screaming frantically, her body thrashing as she tries to hold in the waves of pleasure that rock her core with each like. Just thinking of what that tongue would be like _inside_ of her made her mouth water. She feels two digits enter her mouth, just to silence her, and something in her brain clicks. She would atone here, show Lightning just how _lewd_ her little sister was in private.

 

So with a vigor and urgency that surprised the both of them, the younger Farron sister began to suck on the fingers, making a pleased mewling sound as she felt Claire’s hand come between their warmth, cupping over the fabric of her panties. In slow, measured circles, the knight rubbed her clit feverishly, relishing the muffled squeaks and moans. Serah’s shoulders stiffened, and her back arched slightly, legs quivering under her siblings work. It was short, and a little _too_ easy the first time around, Claire’s warmth rubbing along Serah’s creamy thigh, her sharp teeth poking and nipping at the skin she loved to praise, and as her little sister approaches her first orgasm, there are already bruises and ugly bite marks forming around her neck. She can tell that the girl is about to cum by the rhythm of her thrusting hips, the way Serah’s tongue relaxed against the fingers she sucked on and her eyes opened, lust clear and her desire shown without words exchanged.

 

“Oh my god, oh, _fuck._ ” The wet spot in her underwear only grows bigger but she doesn’t care, because her chest is rosy and the fire that Claire so desperately wanted to spread is now burning Serah alive. She looks to her older sister, desire still there, but a teasing gleam beneath the innocent visage she loved to wear.

 

“Oh, what? That’s all you have for a punishment, big sis?” her baby blues are haughty and a chill goes down her spine as she hears the low chuckle Claire gives in return. They both know that what she started won’t end here. Even if they were never so _vocal_ about it before, she knew that Claire would stop at nothing to see the girl she loved bruised up and in her arms at the end of the night.

 

“Do you think I’m that kind?” she pulls her fingers back finally, licking the slickness of her sisters juices from the digits thoughtfully. “You know I’m _not_ satisfied. Not yet.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand the next chapter will be about 98% glorious smut and 2% fluff and cuddling. I might have actually died writing this


	3. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never really expected this fic to get much (or any!) attention, and to see that there are people who genuinely want more of this content makes me pleased! This chapter is pure smut, but I'll be working hard to get stuff out a bit faster in the future! Thanks for the kind words and enjoy!

 

There's very few things that Claire treasures in this world. She could count the little joys of her life on one hand, and use the free fist to break a skull or two. There was Serah of course. Sweet lipped and bright eyed, the younger twin had always been there for Claire. She was the strong one when their parents died, because all Claire did was hide behind a new name and a blank gaze. Took out her fury on street rats and became a demon herself in time. Lightning the Scourge, Pink Haired Monster to everyone else.

 

"P-please don't stop, _Eclaire_!"

 

Breathy moans fill the tiny bedroom, and Lightning is embarrassed to be caught daydreaming while on top of her sister. Serah is nude beneath her, lips parted and eyes much more hungry than they'd been before. Where was the nerves? The cute, worried pout that Serah would get when she did something dumb? Claire feels fortunate that the lights are out, so just maybe her lover cannot see the hue to her cheeks. Embarrassed to be caught daydreaming, especially when this was finally happening. It felt surreal to the yakuza, a woman accustomed to nightmares and fitful rests.

 

Forcing herself out of such ideas, Claire's lips collide with their intended target. Not the plump pink of the smaller girl's lips, or an earlobe or pert nipple, but instead, the groove of Serah's neck is her intended target. Claire's fingers are calloused and so delicate that even the younger sister is surprised. The look in Light's eyes betrayed any sense of fondness, because she looked ready to ravage. The soldier's lips found purchase against Serah's already bruising collar, and aforementioned girl squealed excitedly at the feeling, creamy legs wrapping around Lightning's waist out of a need, a desperation to ease the warmth building up in her stomach, pooling from her core like some urge. The sound of skin being sucked, the shifting as Claire easily undid her own skirt, allowing her younger sister to see the simple cotton panties beneath. Claire catches the sister's gaze and resumes her previous position, straddling her with both of her long legs on either side of Serah, fingers intertwined and so close, Serah could feel the dampness of her sisters underwear.

 

"S-stop teasing me!" Serah's voice is almost babyish, and the guilt, followed by realization that she's being played, passes through Claire's eyes. When she realizes that Serah's just being bratty to get a rise out of her, the domme tighten's her hold on the smaller girl's hands, eyes playful but oddly menacing.

 

"I said I'd show you how much I love you, right?" Claire's never talkative with anyone else, and no one would ever see this side of the fighter, cheeks hot and tongue slick, ready to deliver on a promise. "I'm rotten, baby sis. To the core." she catches Serah in a kiss so heated, that by the end of it, she's grinding her hips upwards, bucking against Lightning's soaked panties in a silent cry for attention. They break apart, and a trail of saliva connects their lips for a moment, Serah breathless and Claire suave.

 

"How is _this?_ " Serah's not sure how she didn't notice the hand over her entrance, but she sure felt the finger. One slow movement, Claire's middle finger pushing past the folds of her labia, deeper, deeper until.

 

"I-I'm...!" Serah's heart was rabbit paced and under her older sisters hand, she was a china doll, ready to be toyed with. Just as quickly as it happened, the delightful finger leaves her wetness, and she's left with a better version of shellshock, tiny waves of pleasure hitting her and making her legs numb as Claire's fingers rubbed the fold of Serah's pussy, spreading the lips to tease at her clit again.

 

"So fast? But i haven't gotten a proper taste yet, have I?" Claire's eyes are devious still, and instead of sucking her fingers, tasting Serah's juices secondhand like before, she merely shifted again. No longer was Claire straddling the girl, but she sat on her knees between Serah's legs, pressing lavish kisses against the girl's navel. Her toned thighs was a nice contrast to the hue of Claire's short hair, and as the older sibling reached her destination, she marveled at the sight. Serah was soaked, her bud throbbing gently with the attention that Light had given it moments ago. Serah could tell that her sister enjoyed the view, and as such, thrust her hips out, so that the pink folds of her labia were clear as day.

 

"Don't look at me like _that_." Serah's voice assumed that gentle quality and it's innocence was enough to make Lightning's heart falter and her legs tighten. In reply, she merely nodded anxiously, parting Serah's legs so that her thighs could rest on Lightning's shoulders, before she went to work. Her tongue was curious, exploring the crevasse of Serah's womanhood eagerly, leaving no spot left untouched. It wasn't long before Serah's shaky gasps became moans, and a lewd sound, the noise of slurping and skin hitting something wet, was all that filled the room. Serah's juices coated her sister's mouth and chin, and Lightning's tongue was deep now, almost as deep as her finger had gone. If they had any neighbors, surely someone would question the nature of the younger Farron's moaning. Especially when she was moaning her sister's name.

 

"I-I can't hold it back..." Serah's fingers gripped through messy pink locks as if trying to keep her grip on reality, or to keep Lightning in one particular spot, right as the smaller girl began to right Claire's face, toes curling and chest heaving as she came hard, harder than she ever had when she fantasized of this night. Her grip loosened and she could hear a muffled "mmph!" as Light feasted on the cum, a wet smacking sound signalling her finish. The sensation of her sisters tongue sliding out of her left Serah numb still, and she looked to her sister with lust-filled, eager eyes.

 

"I'm... you're _incredible_ , Claire."

 

"And you taste incredible, sis." Lightning is upon her as if she's not drained, easily wrapping the smaller sister upon her lap and bringing her in for a kiss. Serah doesn't mind the taste of her own juices, and wraps her arms around Claire eagerly, riding her as the two kissed.

 

"Please, let me make you feel good." she's hurrying too much to even bother taking Claire's panties off, pulling soaked fabric to the side so she can feel the warmth of her sisters pussy. She watched the older sister's normally stoic face twist in surprise, and then degrading ecstasy. "Please, please." Serah is begging, and baby blues never looked so good as the girl humped her older sister's legs, tongue pressing to Claire's ear. "I want to make _you_ feel good."

 

Claire's response comes in a series of huffs and moans, her body weak to Serah's touch. It's telling, how easily the younger sister could take control with just a few words and well placed kisses. Without even having sex yet, she already knew how to get the girl off. Dreamed of it, and touched herself to the fantasies all in preparation. So Serah knew what to do when Claire's legs spread just a little more to make room for Serah, and she knew that Lightning would moan her name, head falling onto Serah's shoulder as the smaller girl pressed her breasts against Lightnings. "You're gonna cum, right?" her voice is low and challenging, as if she's daring Light to do it. Challenging the dominant older sister to make herself vulnerable. And of course, Light's cheeks are just as pink, and she can't meet Serah's eyes because she can feel the girl's pussy against her, how is she still horny? After cumming twice?

 

She doesn't have time to ponder on such a thing, because Serah, the little snake, is still trying to fuck her senseless, like she's lost her mind. And it's working, because even as Light falls back against the bed and Serah's humping becomes rough enough to shake the bed, she wants more. She can't imagine stopping, because the look in Serah's eyes is hypnotic. Such lust, an urgent hunger, it was mesmerizing and panty-dropping to see it on her younger sisters face. Light is a silent type, but she screams in pleasure, her folds squirting her juices as she came, hard. Serah's thrusting never even slowed down, and she rode the girl's thigh as Light rode out her orgasm. Finally, the energized little sister relaxed herself against Claire, curling up against a bare breast and giving it a gentle peck, out of breath.

 

"We... need to try that again sometime, huh?" Lightning looks down to the starstruck Serah, who's staring right back at her with her usual brand of love and adoration. Nothing would change, and that was reassurance.

 

The only thing, interestingly enough, was that they became even closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After like a month of not writing, I'm back again with some good ol' incestuous filth! Honestly, there'll be more exposition and story in future chapters (probably), but I do enjoy writing drama for these two, so expect a bit a of that in the next couple of chapters. Possibly review if you have any suggestions or ideas? I didn't plan to make this one fully coherent story, but more like a series of one-shots surrounding the same setting.

**Author's Note:**

> There's more coming soon, probably! I plan on writing at least one full length chapter of smut and maybe some actual fluffy one-shots to expand on this weird world I'm creating for the siblings.


End file.
